After an interlude of long years I find myself

In the alcove of familiarity, where Time has stagnated

The trees, the grass, even the distant azure hills are same

As if enclosed in a surreal bubble away from change

And amid all the silent river flows with serpentine gait

It flows with complacent serene air of oblivion

While the wind stroke its waters in gentles caresses

On the silver sands stretched like a widow’s  veil

Deserted and wrapped in solitude except  for

The rapsody of incoherent lyrics sung in tuneless voice

By boisterous birds singing in choerus at high octane

In a secluded corner I sit admiring the exquisite panorama

As the river flows by like the flowing eternal river of Time

A few boys sit on the banks, naked feet in water

Fishing in enthusiastic delight for fishes and tadpoles

And in the moment of solivagance, borrowed from life

Some peals of laughter echo within corridors of memory

Reminding me of the carefree days spent on these banks

Of the picnics and strolls on these now strange banks

These mute trees heard  many of our secrets years ago

From the bushes of henna in some corner the scent floats by

Where a little girl stands plucking leaves for crimson palms

The distant hills dappled in blue smile a welcome

Even the sun with mellow smile peeping through clouds

Winks at me with familiarity and amicability

The trees streth silent arms as if to give a hug

This is my home though now lost still the bond

Remains yet to be severed , past forgotten

With misty eyes I return from the banks

The interlude over and the borrowed moments ended

The mad race of life called to me …